Lightless: The 4th Quarter Quell
by LilMissSpike
Summary: The rebellion is over, but the Capitol still reigns. Now a Quarter Quell approaches, and the government is going to make it most memorable. All the tributes have a predetermined amount of time to live, so kill all the other tributes or be blown to bits. SYOT; 7 slots open
1. Intro

**Sypnosis: Basically, in the 100th Hunger Games, the horrible twist is less about the competitors and more about the competition. In these Games, all the tributes' trackers are equiped with a timer. Each tribute is given a random amount of days to live, and it will count down from the sound of the gong. If they do not win the Games by the time the timer runs out, the tracker explodes inside of them and kills them. Everything's going to be fast-paced. And you'll be surprised to see what other horrific surprises the Capitol has in store for your innocent tributes when the Games begin...**

* * *

No Mary Sues/Gary Stus, please. I mean, please, don't overload your character with abilities. Even if they are a career, they should at least have some weaknesses and not accel at everything. Also, be reasonable. For example, why would a girl from District 6 (Transportation) have knife-throwing abilities? If your character's too much of a Sue/Stu, I'll edit them slightly or not mention those parts.

Also, guys, **enough with the dead family members**! Almost every tribute I've recieved has a dead parent, and there's no good reason for them having one! Like, people just throw that into the bio for the heck of it, and I'm probably going to refrain from mentioning it or even completely cutting it out from some tributes. It'll look weird, too, if suddenly everyone is angsting because their dad/mom/sister/brother/etc. is dead.

This isn't to be rude, this is just advice so you can create the best OC possible.

* * *

Please send in your application via PM. Thanks!

Application Form

Name:

Age: _12-18_

Gender:

District: _Remember, 1, 2, and 4 are the careers. Look below to see what profession belongs to each District and what slots are taken. Also, please put your first and second choices, just in case I haven't filled a slot yet and your first choice is taken._

Personality: _No contradictory traits! I want at least five! And don't just sepearte everything by commas. A few sentences will do just fine._

Appearance: _Descriptive, please. Hair color, eye color, height, build, other unusual features._

History: _Their history doesn't have to be a big block of text, but I'd like to see some meat on it. Remember: there is a difference between quantity and quality._

Strengths: _Five maximum_

Weaknesses: _Three minimum_

Weapon of Choice:_ Remember, realistic! Normal tributes should only really accel with one weapon if that. Careers can have two._

Arena Strategy:

Cornucopia?:_ Y/N_

Allies?: _Y/N, if so, who?_

Reaped/Volunteered:

Reaction to Reaping/Reason for Volunteering:

Token: _If any_

Chariot Rides Outfit Idea:

Interview Angle:

* * *

District Occupations

District 1 - Luxury Items

District 2- Masonry

District 3 - Technology

District 4 - Fishing

District 5 - Electricity

District 6 - Transportation

District 7 - Lumber

District 8 - Textile

District 9 - Grain

District 10 - Livestock

District 11 - Agriculture

District 12 - Coal Mining

*District 13 - Graphite Mining

*Since this is after the rebellion, the whole nation of Panem knows about the existance of District 13. Therefore, they are forced into the arena with the twelve other Districts.

* * *

Positions

**District 1**

Male: Axel Calico

Female: Sunstone "Sunny" Combe

**District 2**

Male:

Female: Valentine Curber

**District 3**

Male:

Female: Neon Kilowat

**District 4**

Male: Chase Matthews

Female: Lyrie Malot

**District 5**

Male: Oliver Toph

Female:

**District 6**

Male: Kyler Gray

Female: Riley Stewart

**District 7**

Male: Dustin King

Female: Aspen Lark

**District 8**

Male:

Female: Paisley Asteala

**District 9**

Male: Hopper Seedbel

Female: Hazel Ericson

**District 10**

Male: Sable Merona

Female:

**District 11**

Male: Zephyranthes "Zephyr" Creed

Female:

**District 12**

Male:

Female:

**District 13**

Male: Asher Lakes

Female: Cora Shardwick


	2. The Gamemakers

**This chapter's a little short; it basically introduces the Quell twist and your lovely gamemakers and shows some of Panem's background.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _The Hunger Games_. Suzanne Collins does.**

* * *

I sit in my seat, feet kicked up on the desk. My chair swivels round, now facing the circle of gamemakers who stare. I smile. First year as head gamemaker, and heck, these Games will be remembered forever; stamped in the minds of the people of Panem. This year, they'll _finally_ realize that tangling with the Capitol only leads to more problems for them.

My eyes scan their blank expressions, heads hanging at me. "Okay," I say. "Let's get down to business. This year, we're having the 4th Quarter Quell – the 100th Hunger Games. Ideas for the Quell twist?"

A somewhat nervous-looking woman looked up, dark eyes meeting mine. Her voice was soft and fragile sounding. "Um, Miss Nyx, the Quell twists are predetermined."

My eyebrows rose at her comment. "Oh, Ms. Angel Faye," I drawled, "We _all_ know that we choose these as they come; look at the 3rd Quarter Quell. They were practically setting up the mockingjay to die." I didn't dare say _her_ name, though. In the Capitol, we called the fallen symbol of rebellion 'Fire Girl' or 'the Mockingjay.' _She_ mocked us Capitol people, and no one in their right mind would repeat the name of the one who nearly destroyed the perfect world we had created. "I may be new, but I'm not an idiot."

"Well, yes," Ms. Faye continued. "So, I guess we should all put our ideas out."

"Yes, that's what I said," I icily returned.

Lawrence, the vice-head gamemaker, face smooth from plastic surgery, brushed back his yellow hair and looked at me. "How about we blind all the tributes before they enter the arena?"

"No," I replied. "It's quite tempting, I'll admit, but the Games would be too boring. I want something that will show the Districts who's boss. This has to blow the other three Quells outta the water."

Lawrence nodded and gazed at some invisible point on the ceiling, pondering about the other ways we could do a spin-off of the usual Games.

"Well," Ms. Faye began, "Perhaps we could do 1.5 times more tributes? 36 tributes, three from each district."

"No," I shot back again. "Don't you see? The previous Quarter Quells have been all about the tributes alone, not the Games. It has been one hundred years since we started these Games, don't you think we should do something so breathtakingly dangerous-" I didn't get to finish my rant, because suddenly, an idea so original and brilliant seeped through the cracks of my mind, I couldn't let it go.

I explained my plan to the group as most nodded in approval.

"I must say, Mayella, I'm impressed," Lawrence said. I smiled to myself behind my curtain of bleached hair. Good. The vice-head gamemaker was on my side. Though I ran the show, in some retrospect, Lawrence had the most authority in the room. He'd been gamemaker since the second rebellion, and he held much power regarding the Hunger Games. I wonder why no one ever appointed him to the head… "I agree, your idea is great."

Angel's eyes narrowed towards me. "She never gave us a chance to speak! _Boss_!" she protested, suddenly standing up from her chair.

"Silence," Lawrence said in an odd tone I'd never heard him use before. It was somewhat gentle but very powerful. "It has been determined."

Angel simply gaped at the rest of the gawking gamemakers, knowing she was outnumbered. Ha, no one dared cross me.

"All right then," I said. "Meeting adjourned." Next stop: the announcement. Daddy always said I was meant for the big screen – the spotlight. Now everything is falling into place.

As I headed for the door, Angel smacked into my shoulder, not even regarding me as she brushed out. _You're asking for it, brat._

Hey, I never said I was nice.

* * *

My stack of papers were neatly laid out on the desk in front of me. I always found TV to be funny in that way; the papers were for mere decoration – to make me look more professional.

The crew rushed to the cameras and pointed a finger towards me, the red camera light flickering on.

"Good morning, Panem," I said in the most cheery, charming voice I could muster. "I'm Mayella Nyx, head gamemaker for this year's 100th Hunger Games. I'm so excited for the amazing show we have in store, and today I'm coming to you live to announce the 4th Quarter Quell! This year, each tribute will have a random predetermined time to live. Kill all the other tributes before your time runs out so you can become the victor." I paused for a second, waiting for the citizens to take in the news.

"So with that said, Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

* * *

**Here's a quick recap in case you had trouble following: Mayella "May" Nyx is the head gamemaker. Lawrence Richards is the vice-head gamemaker. Another gamemaker who seems to have something against May is Angel Faye. The rebellion has ended, but the Districts lost in this AU fic, and the Hunger Games are still going on, the 4th Quarter Quell approaching this year. District 13 is now competing in the Games as well. The Capitol people hate Katniss and won't even say her name, referring to her as 'Fire Girl' or 'the Mockingjay.'**


	3. The Reapings

"I'm sick of it," Angel hissed. She slammed her hands down on the table upon saying this.

I looked up, bored eyes meeting her furious ones. "What?" I was about to make a snarky comment but then decided against it. It would be interesting to see what the queen of priss would rant to us about now.

"Districts 1, 2, and 4. They illegally train their tributes for the Games. Each year, the chances of one of these 'Career' tributes winning are 70%. It's boring to watch them, and they go defying the Capitol's laws and actually get rewarded; showered in gifts from us.

"Yes, I agree," I said, examining my perfectly manicured hot pink nails. Wow, that was probably the first time I agreed on anything with her.

"We should find a way to get back at them," Lawrence said in a thoughtful, deep tone. "Something in the Games."

"We could always bombard them with booby traps," Angel offered. "You know, floods, earthquakes, meteors."

"Meteors?" I questioned. "No, I don't want to spam all the booby traps. Most of them have the sole purpose of picking up the Games and drawing the tributes together."

"The trackers," Lawrence murmured. Angel and I raised our eyebrows in intent.

"What about them?" Angel asked.

"Each Career gets less time in their trackers. That way their unfair advantage will be used against them. Normal tributes will probably have any random time between ten to twenty-one days to live while the careers will have from three to ten days to live."

I grinned maliciously. "I like it. This will definitely make Districts 1, 2, and 4 pay for defying the law."

* * *

_One hundred years. The Hunger Games have been going on for one hundred years. _A girl was sprawled backwards on her bed. Her red hair was curled in large, fat spirals, and her faded blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. _What horrors will this day bring?_ This girl, Cora Shardwick, was about to live through the 1st Quarter Quell reapings that District 13 would be put through.

After the rebellion ended, the Capitol discovered what was left of District 13. The few remaining, surviving children were forced into the Hunger Games with the rest of the other twelve district's children. District 13 was hated. She knew it – the way the other tributes had spoken about them during the Games. They thought anyone from District 13 was a coward for hiding underground while the other Districts perished and were forced to sacrifice their children. They sneered at the fact that District 13's armies didn't come out and save them when the armies were in a perfect place to save them.

_The worst part is: they're right._

"Cora!" her mother called softly. "Let me do your hair. I want you to look good for the, uh, reaping." It was hard for her mother to stomach the fact that she had to offer up her baby yet again. The worst part was that this year, the Quarter Quell was adding a horrible twist to the Games: all the tributes have preset times in their trackers; these times determine how long they have to live. So even if they hide and know exactly how to survive, they could still be killed if their time runs out.

Cora's stomach twisted in knots as she headed over to her mother's part of their cabin. She sat down at the small vanity as her mother grabbed some thin pieces on the two sides of her face, pulled them back behind her head so they would meet in the back, and tied them together with a soft blue bow. She looked up at her daughter who wore a simple white blouse and hand-me-down skirt which was a little too tight. She wore simple stockings up to her knees and black shoes which once belonged to another person who lived in District 13 and were broken in all wrong.

"You look beautiful," her mother said, slightly choked up.

"Mom, don't cry. I'm not going to get in," Cora said, pulling her mother in for a hug. But even though the chances of getting in were slim, she could never shake the horrible doubt in the back of her mind. Her name was written on five neatly-folded slips in the girls' glass bowl. There was still a chance, no matter how small.

Her father joined the group, unusually quiet, and the three made their way to the 'Town Square.' However, District 13 was located underground, so the town square was a simple room where the meetings were held during the rebellion. Children were all being ushered into lines, the youngest ones – the twelve-year-olds – going at the front and older ones near the back. Cora quickly pulled both of her parents in for a hug and scampered away to the lines.

"Name please?" A woman asked.

She softly answered, "Uh, Cora Shardwick."

The woman nodded, flipping through the pages of a small book and locating Cora's name printed next to a small box. "Give me your hand."

Cora reluctantly pushed hers forward and looked away, knowing what was coming. A sharp prick suddenly ripped a small area on the flesh of her index finger. Cora let out a small yelp as this happened, earning a few stares from the other children. The woman smeared the blood in a book next to her name and shoved the girl away. The force caused her to ram into a boy's shoulder. She tripped over her own feet and stumbled a bit.

"Watch it," he said sharply.

"Sorry," she mumbled, rubbing the back of her head with her non-bleeding hand. She knew this boy from somewhere... "Asher, right?"

"Oh, hi. We're in the same science class, correct? And your name's Cora. Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"Yeah. It's fine, though. I don't blame you. It's hard to be happy here." With that, Cora headed off to her place in line. There wasn't much else to say at a grim place like the reapings.

Asher, meanwhile, sighed. He pressed his thumb to his index finger, happy to know the bleeding was slowing down. He hated what was happening right now. He really despised the Capitol.

_What would happen if I was reaped? _Asher wondered. _No, don't think like that. I'm _not_ going to get reaped. There's no way. My name is only in there six times. Six out of what? Three hundred? Then again, three hundred barely compares to the large amounts of children in the other Districts. Most of ours were killed during the rebellion; once someone turned fourteen, they were trained for the District army._

Asher shook his head and headed into line. _No, I'm being stupid. Just calm down. The chances are slim._

A silly-looking Capitol man stood atop the stage. His skin was completely dyed a light blue, and his hair was a darker shade of blue. He wore lipstick to match his hair color, and green eye shadow which seemed rather out of place. There was no doubt that he had some form of plastic surgery, as his face had that unnatural look of being pulled back and pinched.

Asher shook his head as a nervous hush fell over the audience. The man's name was Virgil Rain, escort for District 13. Anyone could just tell from his expression that he truly hated District 13. He hated the fact that they rebelled against his perfect Capitol world, even though the Capitol was completely unfair and corrupt. W_hat a grudge! _Rumor has it that he was literally forced into escorting for District 13 because no one else wanted to.

"Um, hello," he said in his deep, formal voice. Nervous eyes met his round, black ones. It seemed that years ticked by between his pause.

_Could it really have been just yesterday that I was over at my friend's cabin? _Asher wondered. He felt this same feeling each year at the reapings. He felt that yesterday had been a lifetime ago. Asher remembered joking around with his friends and always being the life of the party. He remembered how last night they raided the lunchroom and successfully stole a bottle of sparkling cider: a rare delicacy in District 13 usually only served around Christmas time to the wealthiest of families. Then the kids all snuck into a hidden corridor and all mockingly toasting to the Capitol, all saying "And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!" as they clinked glasses.

Could the reapings rip him away from everything he had known?

He clenched his fists and suddenly jumped as the mayor concluded her speech about the history of the Hunger Games, rebellions, and procedures. She finished with an obnoxious, "Happy Hunger Games!"

_Here it comes, _Asher thought, his heart now pounding in his chest with such force he thought it would break through his chest.

"With that out of the way, we'll now draw our District 13 Female tribute," Virgil said. His slightly chubby hand descended upon the glass bowl and selected a single folded slip of paper. He held it up in the air, and the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

The paper unraveled, and Virgil's lips parted to form two words: "Cora Shardwick."

Cora, the girl who had previously bumped into Asher, had wide eyes now staring at the stage. She seemed to be frozen, only moving when someone standing nearby gave her a small shove forward. The other girls parted like the Red Sea for her, and she made her way onto the stage.

_This isn't happening, _Cora thought. _This can't be. I'm dreaming. I need to wake up. I need to wake up!_

"And now for our valiant men," continued Virgil. His hand now lowered into the bowl to the right of the girls', drawing out another slip.

_Oh, please, anyone but me, _Asher thought. _Anyone but-_

"Asher Lakes!" Virgil boomed. Asher slowly headed towards the stage, yet suddenly began to grin from ear to ear._ I'm gonna die – might as well make the best of my last days. _When he got atop the stage, he waved to the crowd and said loudly and clearly, "And may the odds be _ever_ in _my_ favor."

_How on earth is he so cheery? _Cora wondered in her panicked state. Her neurotic personality was beginning to set in. _We're all gonna die, we're all gonna die!_

The two grabbed hands and shook. "Ladies and gentlemen," Virgil announced, "Our District 13 tributes for the 100th Annual Hunger Games!"

That was when the two were dragged away to the Justice Building.

* * *

**I'm basically going to be focusing each chapter leading up to the Games on one District's tributes. So just because one District's reaping wasn't described in this chapter doesn't mean their reapings will never be explained, and it doesn't mean their tributes will never show up in chapters that are focusing on another District. So don't give up and skip over other things, or you'll be missing out!**

**I don't want to do tidbits of each tribute's thoughts per each sceneario because I find that that doesn't give enough information, the paragraphs short, and it's somewhat boring.**


	4. Goodbyes

"Don't cry about me, mom," said a broad-shouldered, attractive sixteen-year-old boy. "I'm gonna win the Hunger Games and you know it. I wouldn't have volunteered if I didn't think that would happen."

"I know," his mother replied. "It's just that – my baby Axel is growing up."

"Mom, don't call me a baby!" Axel said in sharp protest. She straightened up, brushing a wisp of hair out of her hazel eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry. I know you'll do fine."

Axel wasn't worry about the Quell Twist. He would pick off the other tributes easily, being trained for it and all. Besides, he knew he was _beyond_ ready.

"Listen, honey," Axel's mom began, "I'll prepare a big party for you when you come home. Make me and your father proud, okay?"

"Of course," Axel said with a smug grin. "I always do."

There was a short silence as Axel's mom had one of those 'my-child-is-getting-old-and-therefore-I'm-really-old' moments; the boy simply slumped in his chair, feet kicked up on the coffee table, bored out of her mind.

"Okay," she said, composing herself once more. "But before I go, I'll give you your token." She pulled out a silver chain and handed it to him. "Wear this in the arena and represent your District well." With that, the Peacekeepers came into the room and told her their time was up.

Next came Axel's twin sisters, Nicole and Sabrina. "Wow, Axel, that's so awesome! You're going to do amazing in the Hunger Games, I just know it!" Nicole quipped.

"Yeah," Sabrina added. "You're gonna be so famous once you win. And our family can move into one of those super fancy houses in Victor's Village!"

Axel smiled, happy his sisters were happy for him. "Thanks, girls. I really appreciate it."

"And you're gonna get to be on TV!" Nicole gushed. "And it'll be so much fun riding the chariots and doing the interviews."

"I'm so jealous," Sabrina pouted. "Everyone'll love you. When I'm old enough, I'm so volunteering." The twins, being eleven-years-old, had just begun their training, but weren't eligible for the reaping.

"Well you know," Axel began, acting a little smug (he always liked being the sibling in the spotlight), "You still have to train for quite a few years before you'll be even near ready." Usually, in District 1, the volunteers were usually seventeen or over. Sixteen cut it close, but that really didn't bother Axel.

"Daddy said he's going to send you a ton of sponsor gifts," Nicole continued.

Axel nodded. His father was a very powerful businessman in District 1; he would definitely make sure he was well-groomed in the arena.

"Excuse me," a peacekeeper said, poking his head in the room and giving a slight cough. "Your time's up."

Axel nodded towards the gamemaker as the two girls practically tackled him. "Bye, Axel!" they cheered. "See ya soon!"

The boy sat alone, slowly fingering his pure silver chain. He seriously couldn't wait to get in the arena and show everyone how amazing he was. He would be a celebrity throughout Panem. Axel Calico: victor of the 100th Hunger Games. Yeah, he liked the way that sounded.

Meanwhile, Sunny Combe was sitting in her section of the justice building. She embraced her father the second he entered the room, inhaling his familiar scent of cologne; working in a perfume factory seemed to make him permanently smell that way. She didn't know what there really was to be said. There was the traditional 'I'll be fine' and 'I'll miss you,' but those words really didn't have any meaning. Was she supposed to cheer 'I'll send you a postcard from the Arena?' Yeah, right.

Her father must have been thinking the same thing too, because he cleared his throat and pressed a small photo of her family into her palm. "Sunstone, I want you to have this as your token," he said. "To remember us in the arena."

She slowly nodded, turning over the small photograph in her hand.

"You've trained with us alone, and we've prepared you well. I have faith in your abilities and I know you'll make the right choices in order to survive."

Sunny could tell that though he said he was confident she would do well, he was still unsure. He was worried that he would lose his only baby, and in addition to that, their family would be even more ridiculed than they were. Sunny was in this to bring honor to her family and gain wealth for them so they weren't poor anymore, but if she lost, they would just be embarrassed further. There was a lot of pressure on her, but every time she thought of that, she simply shoved the thought out of her mind. Anything that would distract her from her goal needed to be forgotten.

Through the wall, Sunny swore she could hear cheerful squealing. It was an unpleasant sound, no doubt. Probably one of Axel's fifty bajillion fangirls going to see him. Unlike Sunny, Axel was extremely popular in District 1; ladies swooned over him. She never really interacted with the guy, but he didn't seem like an awful person. When he volunteered, he grinned and waved at the crowd, proudly taking his place on the stage and firmly shaking Sunny's hand.

_He has charisma, no doubt, _she thought.

After a silence that could have lasted years, Sunny finally said, "I know I will, too. Thank you, Dad. For everything. For the training and the token. I'll be sure to make you proud of me."

Her father smiled sadly and nodded. "I'll scrape up whatever money I can get my hands on so I can send money to any sponsors that you get," he said. "And with your charisma and charm, I'm sure you won't have any problem gaining sponsors."

"_Scrape up whatever money I can get." Dad really cares about me. He really wants me to win and is making a sacrifice in order for me to win. That settles it. I have to win. There's no way I can't. Everyone who's helped me get here will know that it was all worth it in the end. _"I love you, dad," Sunny said, hugging him once again and kissing him on the cheek.

"It's time for you to get to your train," her escort quipped in her Capitol accent, jumping in the room on her ridiculously high heels. "Come along!"

Sunstone's father left the room, locking eyes with her one last time before she too was whisked out of another door towards the train. Axel was standing there, waving at the cameras and girls lined up to see the victors leave. He winked at one – possibly the girl from earlier?

"Hi, Sunny. Welcome to the party!" She, too, began to grin, looking directly at the cameras and waving. _Have to impress the Capitol audience. _

Axel took note of Sunny's personality and thought, _She definitely acts like a worthy career, though my parents always talked about the Combes being poor disgraces. Oh, well. Let's see how she does in the training. Who knows? She might be a valuable asset to the Career alliance._

The two stepped forward to the gleaming metal train, took one last look at District 1, and then headed to their seats. Next stop: Capitol.


End file.
